


Emotional Irregularity

by TrishaCollins



Series: A Place To Belong [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: First Try at Keitor!, Gen, I suck at titles but I can write 10k in two days?, M/M, Matt just decided he was in this, Well this is a bit longer than it needed to be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 17:32:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14774060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrishaCollins/pseuds/TrishaCollins
Summary: For The Keitor Exchange: Prompt "Im really all about fluff, maybe angst? Training or relaxing together? Maybe with the team or on their own?" Recipient: cagethestarsLotor has spent the past ten thousand years salvaging halfblooded galra from situations that might otherwise kill them. When Haggar captures Keith and figures out a way to block his connection with the other Paladins, Lotor might be his only hope for escape. The rebels are also taking notice that Haggar is up to something.Pre-BOM, first half of season two!





	Emotional Irregularity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CageTheStars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CageTheStars/gifts).



There was something raw and primal in the sound of the Paladin’s scream.

 

Kova’s ear twitched, tail curling around his throat.

 

He did not lift his hand to comfort the cat, staring down into the operating theater where the Paladin – a child, really, barely more than a Galran child – was being subjected to the Druid’s tender mercies.

 

It made his back ache in that strange way that he knew was not entirely physical, remembering the press of that cold table. It had not been more than a quintent since last he felt it. Haggar’s unpleasant summons needed to be obeyed, even if only barely – her lack of interest granted him some freedom, and she was careful to assure that Zarkon knew nothing of her continued interaction. The quintessence she had injected into his body, the blood she had drawn from his veins – all created a sympathetic echo with the wretch screaming on the table.

 

The paladin screamed again, hands twitching as he resisted the Druid’s work.

 

His hand twitched at his side in sympathy, Kova meowed softly against his shoulder, before offering a gentle head-butt against his chin.

 

He drew in a deep breath and slowly eased it out of himself. The last thing he wanted was for the witch to see his discomfort.

 

Haggar was silent, staring down into the theater, a frown on her features.

 

Good. They must not be making any progress with the Paladin.

 

That was as much as he could hope for. Save, perhaps, that the poor creature might be granted a quick death.

 

“We will wear him down, and there is little you can do to stop it.” Haggar muttered.

 

He almost startled, thinking for a moment that he was being addressed, but the witch was staring at the armor thrown into a chaotic pile against the wall of her lab.

 

How…odd.

 

He glanced at the armor, keeping his expression neutral.

 

The shift was enough to make the witch notice him again, her yellow gaze focused on him. “You may go, Prince Lotor.”

 

He narrowed his eyes, making no effort to disguise his hatred of her. “I am so glad to have your _permission.”_ He put a hint of scorn into his voice, turning away to stalk out of the room. Haggar had controlled much of his life, but he made an effort to avoid accepting the hold she had.

 

Kova purred softly, kneading at his shoulder. He had not left him with Narti half out of a belief that the witch might think that Narti was important to him, and half out of the same need that had kept Kova at his side for ten thousand years.

 

Kova was his constant. Kova was the first living creature he remembered seeing, the first warmth that had ever been freely offered to him. Kova was the only thing he had ever cared for that Zarkon had not torn away from him, protected by some armor that only his _father_ understood.

 

Kova waited until they left the lab to hop down, turning over his shoulder expectantly.

 

He frowned. “We are going back to the ship.”

 

Kova merped, flicking an ear at him, and lifted one paw deliberately to his mouth. The cat was being very clear about his intentions.

 

“You think too highly of my skills.” He observed, crossing his arms.

 

The cat just purred.

 

*~*~~*~*~*  
  
Matt had spent a number of years in space. How long he wasn’t entirely sure, he had lost track of time somewhere between losing his dad and losing Shiro, and for a few months he had felt so internally buggy that he hadn’t kept track of anything well. Too many system errors in his brain, not enough time to properly recode it.

 

Some time had passed. He knew that. More than a year? He hoped so, because less than a year after everything made his head hurt. So he clocked it somewhere around two years and left alone the questions of “how long” unless someone asked.

 

Long enough. Long enough that he could swear in sixteen non-terran languages, speak Galran fluently even when he turned the translator implant off, and could carry on a few conversations with the aliens he interacted the most with.

 

Long enough that the sight of Keith’s face in a Galra transmission should not have made his heart sink into his stomach like a lead balloon. But really, why shouldn’t Keith be this far out here? Shiro was in space, and Keith was the thunder to Shiro’s lightning. The shadow to everything Shiro did.

 

He had always been.

 

Keith was in Galra custody.

 

“fuck.” He whispered.

 

“Eh?” Te-osh asked, lifting her head and peering at him sidelong. “That’s the Earth one. What’s wrong?”

 

He scrubbed at his face, digging into the metadata. “Uh-A guy I know – not-not the Champion or my dad, but a different guy I know – he’s been captured by the Galra.”

 

Te-osh canted her head to the side. “A guy you know?”

 

“Well. Yeah. So he’s – “ He wasn’t sure how to explain Shiro and Keith to someone who barely understood that humans existed, as much as he adored Te-osh. “You know how Elia and Grat are?”

 

“Completely blind to anything but each other?” Te-osh asked, fond. “Partners?”

 

“Not exactly, sort of like a mentorship thing. Keith needed Shiro, Shiro needed Keith too.” He made a few uncertain hand gestures. “Point is, if they still have Shiro? Keith is major leverage, and he’s _not_ in headquarters yet. He’s on one of the witch’s research stations.”

 

Te-osh seemed to consider. “You’re going to have to sell that better for any of the rest to bite.”

 

He sighed. “I thought as much.”

 

“Well, if it’s research there might be more prisoners there?” Te-osh prompted gently.

 

“Medical researcher, so probably medication, quintessence, parts.” He pulled up a secondary window. “I’m going to dig into their shipping manifests, I can get a full list.”

 

Te-osh rested her hand on the back of his neck. “Better. Let me know what you find.”

 

He nodded, leaning into the screens as though that would help him see better and pushing up the glasses that he hadn’t worn in two years on reflex.

 

Brains were funny sometimes.

 

_Hold on, Keith. We’ll get you._

_*~*~*_

Eventually, he had convinced Kova to go back to the ship. The witch would be suspicious if they stayed for long.

 

He sent a quick coded message to Acxa and Zethrid, letting them know that he had been detained. But he left it vague, concerned over his transmissions being intercepted.

 

“Sooooo.” Ezor chirped, leaning over his shoulder. “What are we doing?”

 

“The witch has captured one of Voltron’s paladins.” He informed her, not twitching, though she had not bothered to drop her concealment. He had smelled her and felt the minute shifting in the air.

 

“Ohh, does she have the kitty too?” Ezor relaxed her arms, draping over him.

 

His lips twitched. “I believe they are attempting to retrieve it. There are….some difficulties.”

 

Ezor chuckled, a warm, pleased sound against his ear. “The same ‘difficulties’ Sendak had with capturing it in the first place. How sad for them.”

 

“It offers an opportunity for us, if it proves to be as unpredictable as the last time they had it.” He flexed his hands, leaning his head back very slightly in approval of her current closeness. He tried to keep his distance as best he could, but…well. It was difficult, and Ezor was more physically gregarious than most of the companions he had kept over the many years of exile. It meant nothing to her, at least, and the others seemed to view it as nothing to be jealous over.

 

“Well, the last thing we want is for them to have the kitties.” Ezor raked her fingers through his hair, the tips of her claws satisfying a desire he had not allowed himself to voice. “When will they get here?”

 

“Soon.” He hmmed. “If the lion continues as it is.”

 

“The kitty wants the boss back.” Ezor paused. “Will he be in any condition to fly it?”

 

“From the notes I have read, they are quite near to sentient. Even if he must be carried into the beast, it should at least have the ability to take him home.”

 

“Back to the other kitties.” Ezor paused in her petting, tracing the shell of his ear. “oooo. We could get on their pretty castle ship.”

 

“Perhaps.” He agreed, trying not to turn into her hand and seek a return of the gentle ministrations. “Is Narti still sleeping?”

 

“Headache. You know she doesn’t like being near them.” Ezor’s voice held no hint of scorn.

 

“I needed Zethrid elsewhere.” He sighed softly. “I will see if I can ease it once we are hidden in the belt. Was there anything on the long range scanners?”

 

“No. His friends must not know he’s here.” She licked the back of his ear, resuming her rough petting in a sort of casual fashion.

 

“No. Perhaps we could utilize that…” He trailed off, and leaned forward, breaking Ezor’s hold on him regretfully as he brought up the database. He had once come across the royal communication codes, which had included the protocols for the Castle of Lions.

 

Perhaps if he could reach out to them, slip a bit of information….

 

Which they would likely assume to be a trap, but it would at least secure the Red Lion far out of the witch’s grasp.

 

He considered it for a moment, then looked back at Ezor. “Perhaps we will simply handle this ourselves.”

 

Ezor clasped her hands. “Have the kitties owe us a favor?”

 

“Precisely.”

 

*~*~*~*  
  
It took him a few days to finish sorting through the manifest and to catalogue his list – time he thought that Keith probably didn’t have, but he knew trying to hit one of Haggar’s research stations was going to take all of the resources he had and everything he could borrow from the other groups – and to pitch the idea to the other commanders.

 

There were a few surprising contributors as the plan took shape. One of the masked groups has declared themselves a part of the mission from the moment he’d mentioned that their rescue target was a Paladin, and quite a few had jumped onto the mission without complaint after that.

 

The resource haul was good, but he was going to need to ask Te-osh about Voltron and why Keith was being regarded as a folk hero by people who had never met him.

 

Unless he had extended the cryptid act to space? But having seen actual Galra up close and not just the maybe-possibly halfblooded Galra who occasionally showed up in the kitchen with eye shine and the appetite – he assumed – of a chupacabra meant he didn’t really think anything on this side of Pluto would care.

 

But he would take the whole hearted enthusiasm of a pack of barely organized rebels if it meant saving someone he liked from the hands of the space lich.

 

He was going to blame the Galra for half ruining D&D for him for the rest of time by bringing most of his favorite monsters to life. Lichs were not nearly as fun when they sprung themselves on inspecting parties of space explorers.

 

“You’re grinning again.” Te-osh murmured, half asleep.

 

“You should be asleep.” He jabbed his finger in her general direction.

 

“I was. You’re muttering loud enough that the whole ship can hear, and-“ She yawned, interrupting herself. “You should be asleep as well. Grat has this watch.”

 

“I’m still working on hacking into her database. I can sleep once we have Keith back.” ‘Hi, I’m not dead, can I sleep now?’ sounded like an excellent opening conversation.

 

She sighed, lowering herself into the chair by his side. “Matt, you will not be any good to anyone if you drain yourself to the point of exhaustion.”

 

He poked his tongue out at her.

 

“At least let me make you something warm to drink.” She offered.

 

“The last time you did that you slipped me a sedative.”

 

“You had been up for an entire movement.” She replied archly, giving a shrug that he knew she had picked up for him. “I was looking out for the wellbeing of my crew.”

 

He snorted. “I’ve been awake for longer than that back on Earth.”

 

“Yes. Your ‘freshman year’ as you call it.” Her tone was affectionate. “Was anyone shooting at you?”

 

“I am not at liberty to discuss any potential crime scenes I may or not have been involved in, nor any laws I might have broken. The statute of limitations has not been reached.” He deadpanned.

 

She laughed. “Right, right. Your life of crime and injustice while going to a military school. Rest, Matt, your friend will not thank you for pushing yourself to collapse.”

 

“He might not even notice. He’s sort of single target, or at least he was when I saw him.” He joked.

 

“Matt.” She reached passed him, minimizing the screens.

 

He made a halfway attempt at a yelp, but the system was set to autosave his work. “Hey.”

 

“Bed.” She ordered.

 

“You know I’m a commander too.” He complained as he got up.

 

“And I still rank you. Bed. Sleep. At least six varga. The end.” She gave him a little shove.

 

He sighed. “Fine, fine. I’m going.”

 

She reached for his hand, twisting off his travel terminal. “I’ll give it back in the morning.”

 

He wilted, knew he was pouting at her, didn’t try to salvage the expression into anything else.

 

She gave him a knowing look. “And I will know if you try to open your work in your room.”

 

He lifted an affronted hand to his chest. “Are you _tracking_ me, Te-osh? I am not sure I am prepared to live in that sort of police state.”

 

She didn’t look amused. “It is for your own good. Now bed.”

 

*~*~*~*

  
The cameras in Haggar’s labs were nearly impossible to access remotely. Their storage was based on the Druid’s own magic. He knew from prior experience that making the attempt was useless and would only get him noticed.

 

But he also knew that the cells were not similarly secured.

 

The red paladin was pacing the circumference of his cell, eyes glowing in the dim light. He had to use his hand to keep himself upright, but the stubborn boy was not allowing the agony to dampen his attempt to escape.

 

He could respect it, that desire to keep moving even when it was useless to do so. It had taken a very long time to train himself out of it. Useless, certainly, but a desperate sort of useless. A trapped animal sort of utility. As long as he could move, he was still alive.

 

The Paladin made a little rasping noise, half doubling over as another wave of the pain struck him, eyes screwing shut.

 

He half expected a scream, but the Paladin swallowed all other noise, claws carving furrows into the steel of the wall. A trickle of blood escaped his mouth, but no sound.

 

Lotor could respect that too, the bitter desire to keep pain to himself. The more he watched of the Paladin in his only free moments, the more he toyed with the idea of keeping him.

He fiddled with the controls on his screen for a moment, carefully overloading the lights on the cells until the paladin on the screen was bathed in blackness. It would look like a simple outage – a system error. But he knew that it would take time to identify and fix.

 

The paladin huffed a noise that sounded more relieved than frightened, and slowly crept towards the corner he had dragged his sleeping matt. He dropped into his nest, curling his body into a tight little ball.

 

Lotor kept watching him, awash with memories he had tried very hard to repress. When he had been Haggar’s, there had always been Kova slipping through the bars to comfort him. His hands itched with memory and with an odd desire to hold the young half Galra, to run fingers through his hair until his rest was comfortable and pain free.

 

It was a possessive sort of desire, he had felt it before. It was how he had won Ezor, after all. But this time he doubted he would be allowed to keep him.

 

“Cameras are down?” A voice asked over the feed.

 

He tensed, watching the screen intently.

 

“Nobody able to watch them with the power down.” Another voice answered.

 

The paladin flattened further, a little rumbly hiss escaping him.

 

The manual unlock finished, and two hulking Galra stepped inside.

 

“Remember us?” The leader growled. “I think it’s time for some payback.”

 

The Paladin snarled in response from his curl.

 

He clinched his fists, claws biting into his palms as he watched the travesty that followed.

 

*~*~*~*~*  
  
Waiting for Haggar to leave the research station was probably up there with the worst experiences in his life. Knowing that Keith was there, knowing that the druids were doing everything that druids did to him, and not being able to do anything.

 

The Galra had taught him helplessness. It wasn’t a comfortable lesson, but he had learned it and tried not to internalize it too much.

 

Te-osh clearly knew it was getting to him, because she kept trying to distract him with other projects that had nothing to do with this station. He ran through his own tracking protocols, keeping an eye on the fleet that was trying to herd the red lion here.

She left, finally, and he couldn’t help the shaky, relieved sigh that escaped him. “She’s headed for the fleet, move in. Set the charges.”

 

And after that, it was a familiar dance. His fingers pressing charges into nooks and crannies, soft voices on the comms that were reporting their own status.

 

He was moving closer and closer to the holding cells, intent on his purpose. Intent on Keith.

 

“All of the charges are placed.” Te-osh reported over the comm. “No alarms triggered, virus uploaded in the command center. Light it up.”

 

He activated the signal block, and felt the entire station shudder as the charges went off, lights flickering off for a moment before they returned – dimmer, emergency power now. “You have a varga.”

 

“Heard.” Someone repeated dutifully on the comms.

 

He closed the screen and turned the corner, taking off at a run towards the cells.

 

Someone was stepping out of the cell just as he got there, Keith cradled in their arms, wrapped in a blanket that he was sure hadn’t been in the cell. Keith was very still, limp in their grasp, and the person froze at the sight of him.

 

“You-who….are you with Voltron?” He asked, confused by this change in his plans.

 

There was an odd sort of stillness for a moment, long enough for another figure to slink around the hall behind him, tense, tail drifting behind it.

 

“You are responsible for the explosions?” The person holding Keith asked, voice muffled slightly by the helmet.

 

His fingers twitched on his staff, tracking the tailed figure out of the corner of his eye. “I am. We heard one of the Paladins was in trouble, so we came to rescue him.”

 

The tall figure shook his head slightly, and the tailed alien fell back a little. “So did we.”

 

He felt his shoulders relax. “So. You’re with Voltron, huh?”

 

“Yes.” The tall figure said slowly, looking down at Keith. “Yes, we are.”

 

“Great. I know him. He’s…a friend of mine. Where are you taking him?” He asked, keeping his tone firm.

 

“To my-our ship. To tend to his injuries. The lion has nearly escaped its containment. We have been monitoring the situation.” The tall figure held Keith just a little bit closer, tilting his body to further hunch over him. “How much time do we have before this station is completely destroyed?”

 

“Less than a varga. WE should go. I’m going with you.” It wasn’t the plan, but he wasn’t going to leave Keith alone. Allies or not, he needed to make sure Keith was ok.

 

The taller, masked alien tilted his head, made a noise that sounded almost disgruntled, but offered a faint nod. “Very well. Let us leave this place then. I did not expect a rebel presence here.”

 

He huffed. “I didn’t expect a Voltron presence here, you weren’t part of our plan.”

 

“That feeling is mutual, though your explosions covered our entry admirably.” The tall figure sat off at a fast walk.

 

“Is he drugged or knocked out?” He asked as they moved, trying to get a closer look at Keith.

 

The tall figure gathered him closer, hiding him from view. “Sedated. The druids had not entirely finished with him when the explosions happened, they dumped him back in his cell to investigate.”

 

He frowned. “What were they doing to him?”

 

“Who can tell with druids? They use their own logic. We were waiting for the witch to leave.” The unrestrained hatred in the stranger’s voice made him relax.

 

“So were we. We don’t have the resources to go directly against her.” He admitted, keeping his staff at the ready while they moved.

 

The stranger pressed his hand to a key panel without entirely shifting Keith, and the door whisked open without protest.

 

“You’re half Galra.” He observed.

 

The stranger and his companion both stiffened.

 

“Cool it. I don’t care. So is he.” He nodded to Keith. “We’ve got enough halves and quarters in the rebellion that we can make our way around a galra station without problems.”

 

The stranger nodded. “Some cells are less…forgiving than others.”

 

He shrugged, pragmatic. “You didn’t choose to be born. You are what you are, your actions determine what sort of person you are, not your genetics.”

 

“That is a sentiment the universe could use more of.” The stranger’s voice had relaxed somewhat.

 

“Yeah, well. I just got here, I don’t exactly have a podium to speak from.” The tailed figure circled them, opening up a ship that looked exactly like all of the other fighters in the bay, except this one had neatly labeled boxes of supplies in the hanger and a bubblegum pink pilot who was eying him with clear dislike. “Oh you guys are robbing them too?”

 

“It was that or let much needed supplies get destroyed along with the witch’s hidden lab.” The tall figure shrugged, lowering Keith to the berth. “Get us out of here, we’ve less than a Varga before the station disintegrates around us.”

 

“Home?” Pinkie asked, still watching him intently.

 

“Back to the ship for now.” The one holding Keith answered.

 

“What about him?”

 

“A rebel, he knows…Keith.” There was a slight hesitation on the name, just enough. Still nervous.

 

There was a small twitch from pinkie, but she nodded and turned back to her controls.

 

The tall figure was carefully unwrapping Keith, making a little noise in his throat when Keith muttered in protest, hand smoothing his hair.

 

Keith was….purple. He had marks on either of his cheeks that were a darker purple, and his ears had a slight point to them.

 

He took a breath and adjusted his reality. He and Shiro had discussed Keith’s possible Galra blood intermittently from the moment they were captured, but to see it confirmed like this was…well, it was weird. In some part of his mind, everything left on Earth had frozen in time and space, left exactly how he had last seen it. He knew it was unrealistic, but…well. Nothing had been realistic from the moment they’d been taken.

 

So he could deal with this, he had dealt with everything else. He stepped forward, skimming Keith’s injuries.

 

*~*~*~*~  
  
The rebel was odd. He was trying very hard not to keep his hackles up. He wanted to lean over the injured half-galra, to growl at the intrusion into his space and his peace, or at least make the rebel move across the ship while he dealt with the distasteful task of stripping away the rags of the smaller half-galra’s clothes to access the injuries beneath it.

 

Narti and Kova danced around him, fetching supplies, as near as a thought away.

 

The rebel hovered close, but didn’t do anything to stop him or interfere. Which was still on his tolerance, but it hadn’t exceeded his ability to endure just yet.

 

Keith was a mess, but it was an expected mess. His lips had the faint tinge that told him that there were some minor internal bleeds, but nothing significant, his stomach had the faint bloated look to it that said he hadn’t eaten – likely in a few days. He dressed the external injuries, smeared cream onto the bruises and dressed him in a loose tunic that he hoped would not aggravate the existing injures.

 

Lotor was wrapping his wrists when his eyelids started to flutter, it was clear the drugs had not entirely left his system, but that the half-blood was fighting his way to consciousness.

 

Keith hissed softly at the light, squinting his eyes as he tried to focus – they were still glowing, but dimmer now. He doubted the glow would stay.

“Relax.” He told him, keeping his tone gentle, tensing a bit as the masked rebel loomed closer.

 

“Wh-“ Keith’s mouth worked silently for a moment, tongue moistening his lips, head turning slightly towards him, confused. “Wh-?”

 

“Friends.” He soothed. “You are safe.”

 

The rebel shifted, and he felt himself tense, but the man only reached up for his own helmet, compressing the front release and then moving to another hidden catch in the back before removing it entirely and kneeling down next to the bed. “Hey.”  


Keith blinked several times, hand twitching as though he was trying to reach for the man, lips curving into something close to a smile.

 

The human smiled back, taking the hand. “You grew your hair out. Looks pretty good.”

 

The half-galra relaxed, he could feel the tension melting from him, eyes closing again as his breath escaped him.

 

“Stubborn.” The human said, though the tone was fond.

 

“L- Boss!” Ezor called. “Docking soon, strap in. A- Everyone is accounted for and waiting for us. Do I need to relay anything specialized?”

 

“No. He should be fine with rest, though let them know starvation protocols need to be enacted. The druids were keeping him alive on quintessence only.” He finished wrapping the slender wrist carefully, then tucked the blanket back around him.

 

The human was watching him, thoughtful amber eyes studying him intently.

 

He wasn’t sure what to do with the human, it had been expedient to allow him to follow, and now that he was here…well. “I assume you need to make contact with your fellows?”

 

“Already did.” The human hesitated for a moment. “My name is Matt. Matt Holt.”

 

He blinked. “Holt.” He knew that name. “I think I saw your wanted poster once.”

 

Matt grinned. “Terrible picture. Caught me at a bad angle. You know they’re comparing me to Antok’s scourge? It’s sort of neat.”

 

He huffed a small noise that wasn’t quite laughter, debating how long he could keep this particular human at bay, knowing what he was capable of.

 

He doubted he could use him without the human figuring it out.

 

Narti shifted closer, mind pressing gently against his own, concern echoing concern. Was the human safe?

 

Safe enough. Safe enough. He cared for Keith, and as long as they gave him no reason to betray them, then he would likely leave on his own. “Where is the Lion?”

 

“Still about two galaxies away and annoying half the fleet. I got his armor and personal effects like you asked.” Ezor replied, not looking away from her screens.

 

“Keep track of it.” He ordered, picking up Keith carefully and standing with the half-galra in his arms.

 

“He is going to get so mad when he is awake enough to realize you’re doing that.” Matt observed, picking up his helmet and standing.

 

“What?” He knew the human couldn’t see his odd look, but he found himself turning in his direction.

 

“Keith hates being tiny.” Matt gave another of the open, relaxed smiles. “Pretty sure he would crawl rather than let himself be carried.”

 

“That would aggravate his injures.” He protested.

 

“”Keith” and “aggravate” are sort of synonyms.” Matt shook his head. “He’s stubborn.”

 

He hummed in response, lifting Keith to pillow his head against his shoulder and turning for the door.

 

*~*~*~*~*  


It was one of the weirder set ups he’d encountered since joining the rebellion. As far as he could tell, there were only five people on the ship. He had to give it to the guy, he had decent security, but his life support output history wasn’t locked in any way.

 

The ship was decently sized, a bit outdated on the outside, not matching with the current designs. But big, big enough that it could have contained a larger crew. There was even an active hydro bay, though from what he could tell only Pinkie needed a lot of vegetation in her diet.

 

At first he had thought it might be a harem of sorts, but it was clear the male half galra slotted more into being their commander than their lover, and he couldn’t tell if that line was ever crossed. With half-galra, it was always hard to tell. If they could clump they would clump, and he was willing to bet that Keith’s rescue only had a little to do with the fact that Keith was a paladin.

 

Keith was another issue entirely, he had rallied briefly, seemed to be on the verge of a complete recovery and then had suffered some sort of collapse.

 

Which had seemed almost expected from the grim looks on the pack’s face.

 

Quintessence collapse, Pinkie had explained, resulting from too much in too short a period of time being shoved into his system.

 

Apparently, it took a few months to recover from completely.

 

He pulled up his wrist screen watching L – he had only managed first letters of their names in the two movements he’d been there – carefully spoon-feed a delirious Keith broth.

 

L looked almost human, except tall and purple with pointed ears. A had rounded ears and a sharp face, with skin a little bit bluer in tiny. Z was a big bruiser, but seemed to be relaxing around him. N was eyeless, quiet, but seemed rather fond of her cat. E – or Pinkie, as he couldn’t help himself from referring to her internally – was well, pink, with a head tentacles.

 

Keith muttered something, and L leaned to listen, then lifted him gently into his arms, tucking his head against his chest.

 

Keith sighed, relaxing a bit, eyes closing again.

 

It was sort of sweet, in a weird way. All five of them were very careful with Keith, but L in particular seemed attached to him.

 

He was sure they had never met him before, but now that they had him they were clearly going to give Shiro a run for his money over being intensely devoted to him.

 

A cleared her throat from the door. “Sir.”

 

“Yes?” L replied tiredly, carding his fingers through Keith’s hair.

 

“We’re being hailed.” A didn’t seem nervous, but she didn’t sound happy either. Her gaze darted to him for a moment.

 

He made it seem like he was paying more attention to the screen than their conversation, still working on building something close to trust with them. They could be useful, they were clearly well organized. He had told Te-osh that he had made contact with a band of half-galra and he was going to try to bring them in, and everyone knew how slow that particular process would be.

 

L stiffened, eyes squeezing shut for a brief moment before he sighed. “I will return.” He told Keith, gently resettling him in the nest of pillows.

 

Keith cracked his eyelids – the same color, except the sclera now. They didn’t glow anymore. “Lotor?” The word was clear, but slightly slurred.

 

L – Lotor? – dropped his hand to his head. “I will handle this situation, and then return.”

 

Keith nodded, head turning slightly towards A. “K.”

  
L gave him a look as he walked out of the room, A giving ground and falling into step behind him with only one uneasy look back at him.

 

Keith was welcome here, they couldn’t decide what to do with him.

 

He was going to outlast their paranoia if it killed him.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Lotor raked a hand through his hair, trying to arrange himself into something of order as he stepped into the command center, starring at the screen. “Who is it?”

 

“Haggar.” Zethrid said, putting enough distaste into the name that nothing else needed to be said.

 

He dropped his body into the chair. “What does she want?”

 

“To speak with you.” Acxa lowered herself into her chair, tapping a few keys. “Apparently one of her stations was destroyed a movement or two back.”

 

He rolled his eyes and folded his hands. “Very well. Patch it through.”

 

“Prince Lotor.” Haggar’s voice grated on his nerves, but he kept himself from tensing.

 

“What do you want?” He replied, voice cool.

 

“You are still in that sector. Have you noted any rebel activity?” She fixed her glowing eyes on him.

 

He scoffed. “What would they care for a cruiser decapheebs out of date? If they were wandering around hailing random ships you would have found them already. I imagine they must be smarter than that in order to avoid you. We are in orbit around the moon, as ordered. We have hailed no one, and no one save you has hailed us.”

 

Haggar narrowed her eyes. “You have that cruiser by my leave, Prince Lotor. Do not make me regret giving it to you. You may leave orbit to seek out these rebels, they have taken something very important to me. If you recover it, I will make certain you are adequately rewarded for your diligence.”

 

“I am not your errand boy.” He growled.

 

“Hm. Perhaps you should be more interested in doing as I wish, Prince Lotor.” Her tone hung heavy with warning. “I am in need of new specimens to work with.”

 

He bristled at the threat, but kept his manner calm, not giving her a hint that she had bothered him. “I am sure you will have specimens plenty when you find the rebels, Witch. I will not be dragging this useless ship into a battle for your sake. If you need more resources, ask my father.” He disabled the connection and slumped back in his chair.

 

“Well, that went well.” Ezor drawled, staring at the blank screen. “Think she’s going to come get us?”

 

“No. She can’t even find the rebels, she’s just lazy.” Zethrid dismissed, glaring at the screen. “Couldn’t we have blown up the station with her on it?”

 

“Not without risking our objective. Besides, I doubt she could be killed with a few explosions.” Were they so lucky, the witch would have been ended centuries ago.

 

Alas, Haggar was more durable than that.

 

“So. IF she’s nosing around, we need to get them off the ship.” Ezor mused. “Do you think she suspects?”

 

Zethrid snorted. “That would require her thinking.”

 

“Do not think to rule out Haggar as an intelligent foe.” Keith was still weak, lurching clumsily towards the closest familiar comforts, feverish. They did not have the facilities to deal with the condition, merely the resources to wait it out. “Where is the lion?”

 

“Close, still fenced in. The other kitties are starting to harass its guards.” Ezor looked thoughtful. “You think we get Keithy back in the seat and it all snaps back to what it was?”

 

No. No he did not think that at all. It was all he could do to contain the possessive rumble. Keith was his, now, a part of him. The newly Galra part of him that had nightmares about his people casting him out. What if they did? What would he do if Keith were rejected by those who did not value him?

 

He flexed his hands, considering. “I will discuss with the rebel. He may offer some assistance for the correct price.” He hummed, nodding to the view screen. “After all, we have something very important to him.”

 

“Right.” Ezor groaned. “Or we could just turn Antok’s scourge the resurgence loose on our ship and hope we get out intact.”

 

“Not if we approach it correctly, Ezor. Zethrid, detach a pod and retrieve Sam Holt.” He ordered, standing from his chair. “I will see if we can stabilize Keith for the transport.”

 

*~*~*~*~

 

The galra internal network was relatively useless. The only mention he found of ‘Lotor’ was a record dating back at least nine hundred years. The crown prince at the time, who was apparently being sent into exile.

 

Which, sort of figured. With Zarkon being pretty much immortal, he doubted the emperor would have much use for an heir anyway.

 

He tabbed it, but he was sure it wouldn’t lead anywhere.

 

Keith was asleep again, face ashen, breath the only thing confirming he wasn’t dead.

 

He had moved from his chair to sit on the edge of the bed, hovering over the injured cadet intently. But he doubted Keith even registered his presence. He was pretty sure their host had relocated every pillow on the base to this room.

 

So at least he could be sure that Keith would be taken care of well. He jotted off a note to Te-osh amid normal patrol chatter in the fleet, then remote accessed one of the closer cruisers, listening into what they were debating.

 

He caught enough to know that the Galra were still clueless as to where their missing paladin had gone, and that the red lion was still pinned down, but had apparently taken down at least two ships on her own. Good girl.

 

The door whisked open and Lotor walked inside, giving him a weary look.

 

He raised an eyebrow, tabbing and securing his links before closing down the device. “Serious call?”

 

“Somewhat.” The halfblood walked to the other side of the bed, shifting Keith until Keith curled into his side, hmming something close to a purr. “It will soon be unsafe for the two of you here. Haggar intends to search this ship.”

 

He nodded, leaning back against the wall, watching the two of them, trying to figure out what to do with that information. “What is she to you?”

 

Clear dislike bloomed on Lotor’s face. “My jailor.”

 

“Huh.” He thought about it, decided it tracked, and offered a faint nod. “Ok. So what is your plan?”

 

“I need you to get him to the Red Lion.” Lotor watched him intently.

 

“Alright.” He blinked a bit. “I mean that seems reasonable.” But the way it was phrased made it seem unreasonable.

 

“But dangerous.” Lotor admitted. “Quite dangerous. The pods are not very well equipped. You would be relying more on deception than raw power.”

 

“Mhm.” He had a feeling there was another shoe. 

 

“We will need to stabilize Keith for long enough that he is able to fly the lion.” Lotor said, still watching him intently.

 

He nodded, learning back. “And we can’t be observed leaving here or she will know that you helped us. Which….since she has some control over you, you can’t be seen with us.”

 

“Very true. I am asking you to take a great personal risk.”

 

He was starting to bargain by revealing most of his hand, as much as this guy clearly had some idea of politics, he was woefully inept at sweetening the pot. “So what are you offering, exactly?”

 

“For your assistance in making certain Keith arrives safely, our identity remains covert and that whatever sacrifices need be made are overlooked…I am offering your father.”

 

His breath froze in his lungs, and he choked for a moment, trying to remember how to breathe. His dad. He had torn the Galra records apart, he had poured through everything to find his father. And nothing. Nothing for months and years. He made a strangled noise, balling up his fists at his sides, aware that Lotor was staring at him oddly. “…how?”

 

Lotor blinked, looking entirely unsure. “The moon beneath us is a high security galra prison. Guard prisoners with prisoners. He was transferred here when they realized he might be useful in the future.”

 

He squeezed his eyes shut, taking a deep breath. “Ok. So dad and I get Keith back to Voltron, and we forget we ever heard of you.”

 

“Precisely.” Lotor answered, calm. “Will you do it?”

 

As if he had a choice at this point, as if there had ever been a choice even without his father in play. “Let’s do this.”

 

*~*~*~*~

 

Keith woke slowly, brow furrowing and lips parting as he fought his way back from the haze.

 

He kept one hand on his hair, soothing the transition, only to be pinned with a glare and a half wilted attempt to sit up. “Who-“

 

“You are safe. I have been caring for you for the past movements. We removed you from the witch’s custody.” He answered, calm, holding out his other hand.

 

Keith’s brow furrowed again. “You told me that before.”

 

“I have, every time you have awoken. My generals, and Matt have also repeated it.” He soothed.

 

“…Lotor.” Keith’s voice was shaky. “How long has it been?”

 

“Since you came to us? Two full movements.” He reached out, offering his hand again, trying to offer comfort.

 

Keith squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m Galra.”

 

“You are. So are most of those here. Holt is not, of course, though I have a private wager that he may be part computer.”

 

Keith didn’t snort, just bowed his head, shoulders hunching inward. “No. You don’t understand. I’m _Galra_ , I can’t be Galra. I’m fighting the galra.”

 

He paused, watching the hunched form on the bed. “You are half Galra, and half human. That makes you a unique and wonderful creature. Being Galra does not bind you to a fate, you alone determine who and what you are. I also imagine that it is Zarkon and his witch that you fight, not those who are merely born Galra. You are half of something, as I am, as my generals are. We alone make up our minds what that means.”

 

“How do you know?” Keith’s voice was quiet, pained.

 

“Well. You are fighting them.” He pointed out, letting some of the fondness creep into his voice. “I doubt someone who was born to be a loyal servant would do so. Knowing what you are does not change a single part of your purpose, Keith.”

 

“How can I fly with Voltron…?” Keith shook his head, one hand balling in the blanket.

 

“Zarkon did once. Before. It may have turned out poorly, but the fact that you are Galra did not make the Red Lion reject you. It has changed nothing about you at all.” He took Keith’s hand, giving it a squeeze.

 

Keith leaned forward, burrowing himself against his chest, tiny tremors making him seem weaker than he was.

 

He smoothed the sweaty hair back from his face, giving him the time to fight his way through his emotions.

 

“You saved me.” Keith murmured.

 

“Holt would have saved you if I had not.” He told him, not wishing to take the credit away or risk Keith’s peace with his heritage.

 

“You don’t even know me.” Keith was soft, lifting his head to stare up at him.

 

“I knew enough to know that I would not leave anyone in Haggar’s grasp.” He cupped Keith’s face. “And I think you worthy of knowing.”

 

Keith shifted, lurching awkwardly upright one moment, and then surging towards him with a mash of lips against his own. He froze, then tried to awkwardly accept and return the gesture, lest Keith feel rejected. He cursed himself for forgetting how unpredictable quintessence injections made emotions.

 

Keith pulled away after a moment, wild eyed and a little bit terrified. “Thank you.” It was whispered, just before he hid his face against his chest again.

 

“Of course.” He murmured in response, rubbing the young half-blood’s back. “We need you, Keith.”

 

Keith nodded, but showed no sign of moving from his wilt.

 

“SIR!” Acxa’s voice was panicked enough that he stiffened as she came around the corner and into the room.

 

“What’s wrong?” He drew Keith closer, protecting the Paladin in his arms, feeling the hair on the back of his neck bristle.

 

“The lion, sir. It’s here. The fleet is following it, but it’s broken containment.”

 

Shit. He scooped Keith up without thinking. “Armor. Tell the others to grab their emergency bags. It is likely that we will need to leave the ship. Where is Zethrid?”

 

“Still on the moon, sir. I will contact her.” Acxa saluted, giving Keith a concerned look as he walked briskly past with the half-galra in his arms.

He sat Keith next to the armor. “Dress, quickly. We will not have much time.”

 

Keith nodded shakily, looking more confused than alarmed, but started pulling on his armor.

 

He pulled up the main computer systems and methodically started the containment, only stopping to pick up his helmet and bag when he was sure everything was secure and the log was safely stored in one of his pouches.

 

Keith was dressed except for his own helmet, lips parted, eyes faintly luminescent.

 

He leaned, pressing a brief kiss to his lips, then lifted the helmet to place on Keith’s head. “All will be well.”

 

“Right.” Keith whispered, eyelashes fluttering. “I can walk.”

 

“If you’re sure. I do not want you to tax yourself before the lion gets here.” Haggar would know, Haggar would know everything the moment the lion attacked his ship.

 

It must have registered where Keith was the moment he regained full consciousness, and now it was coming, which likely meant the other paladins were coming as well.

 

“I’m sure.” Keith stood, straightening his shoulders.

 

He eyed him critically, but nodded and accepted it, putting his own helmet on. “Come. We will be needed on the bridge.”

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

He was chewing his nails, staring at the little icon that was Zethrid’s ship. Everything was going wrong, and all he could focus on was the fact that his dad was down there. His dad was down there and the entire galra fleet was about to drop on top of them, and Zethrid was in a barely armored shuttle that had almost no weapons.

 

It was enough to give him heart palpitations.

 

“Matt?” Keith’s voice was soft as he stopped next to him.

 

“Hey. You’re awake. How do you feel?” He didn’t look away from the screen.

 

“Kinda woozy. But awake. What’s that?” He nodded to the screen.

 

“What I wish was you or Shiro, because I don’t know how she flies.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “My dad.”

 

Keith was quiet for a moment. “Pidge is going to be happy.”

 

He jerked his head slightly. “What?”

 

“Pidge. Katie? Your sister.” Keith leaned against the closest station, turning to track where Lotor was. “She’s…she’s one of the other paladins.”

 

He groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I’m going to have a heart attack.”

 

Keith huffed a tiny laugh. “She can take care of herself.”

 

“Pidge is- how old is she?”

 

“Fifteen.” Keith answered easily.

 

Two years. The conformation made him dizzy. “She’s a kid.” She wasn’t a kid, she had never been a kid, she had always been able to take care of herself but the last thing he wanted right now was Pidge in the middle of a conflict that was going to include everything the Galra fleet could throw at them in an attempt to capture the Red Lion and recapture her paladin.

 

“She can take care of herself. She came out here looking for you and your dad.” Keith nodded to the screen. “This was…it was worth it.”

 

Which just made him want to aggressively shake Keith, because he could already feel the justification for everything Haggar had done to him bubbling up. “Idiot. No it wasn’t. We would have found each other without you getting captured and tortured.”

 

Keith glanced at him, then shook his head lightly. “Red is coming for me.”

 

He just had to hope the lion would get there before the Galra.

 

“We need to go down to the cargo bay.” Keith said, and Lotor turned towards him. “Red won’t attack. The only danger I am in is from the Galra behind her, and she knows that. Her current objective is to retrieve me. Not to fight you. We can give Zethrid more cover if I’m in the lion.”

 

Lotor nodded, looking briefly pained. “Acxa, set up the remote self-destruct sequence. I do not wish for Haggar to access anything we have left behind. Ezor, inform Zethrid. Narti, Kova, with me.”

 

*~*~*~*~*~  
  
In some ways, the Lion’s arrival was almost anticlimactic. Keith stood in the middle of the cargo bay, and the lion landed, extending her muzzle to him. Keith reached up, resting a hand on her nose and they seemed to communicate with each other.

 

He had spent so long studying the lions in abstract, trying to understand their creation, that to see the brief, almost intimate interaction between the lion and her paladin made his heart ache.

 

But then Keith was turning towards them, relaxed and calm. “The others are coming, and the castle as well. Red will help us guard the shuttle.”

 

Without any fanfare, they were stepping into the lion.

 

It was as amazing as the few schematics he had found had led him to believe, Keith settled into the chair without a word, and was already toggling dials before the rest of them had found space to stand. It was everything he could do to maintain composure.

 

“-eith?! KEITH!?”

 

“Here. I’m ok.” Keith said, calm, finishing his prep and then taking the yoke. “ETA?”

 

“Why can’t we see you?” A voice demanded over the speakers.

 

“Must be a malfunction.” Keith answered, curt. “Eta?”

 

“Less than a varga, the fleet will be right on our heels, Allura couldn’t wormhole closer with the moon’s pull. Who are you with?” The new voice was calm, relaxed. “Are you alright? Status?”

 

“I’ll make it through this fight, but I think I’m going to need one of the tanks after. The people who got me out stabilized me, but it’s a band-aide. Good to hear your voice.”

 

“Good to hear yours. We’ve been looking for you the entire time.”

 

Keith smiled, expression softening. “I know. She was hiding me from everyone. I got lucky.”

 

“Tell me the whole story once we get out of this.”

 

“Shiro, there’s a ship coming up from the moon. We need to make sure that ship is safe. It’s full of prisoners.” Keith told the voice.

 

“Got it. I see it on my screen, we’ll secure it.”

 

Holt inhaled sharply, pressing against the wall, seemingly briefly overcome.

 

“Keith, there’s a lot of life signs on the lion.” A smaller voice cut in.

 

“Yeah. The ship is set to self-destruct, Pidge. I have the crew, stay clear of it.” Keith glanced back at them – specifically Holt – before maneuvering the lion out of the cargo bay and into open space.

 

There was little to do after that but hold on and marvel at the peak of Altean engineering that had gone into creating the lion. King Alfor had flown this lion, had sat where Keith sat now.

 

It was mind boggling to find himself so close, and his fingers itched to read through the logs.

 

_No._

He startled a bit at the clear push against his mind.

 

 _Fly with me, fight with me, do not think to command me._ The voice wasn’t really a voice, but the impression conveyed resolved itself into words, a challenge.

 

Keith seemed to be oblivious to it, entire being focused on the shape of the space around them, on the ships they were flying through.

 

 _I-i understand. I seek your knowledge, not to control you._ He closed his eyes, trying to project his words. _I seek my mother._

 

Pity flooded him, a deep sympathy he had not expected from the lion. _Seek not the past, but look to the future. What is gone is gone and cannot be reclaimed. That was_ – the emotion that hit him, the twisting, burning lovefearlovebetrayalanger could not be resolved into words.

 

 _My father?_ He questioned, confused, overwhelmed.

 

_In part. We loved him, and we mourned him. He rose again and stole all we loved._

 

The thought of anyone mourning Zarkon baffled him. He put a hand on the back of Keith’s chair, intending to hold himself in place, though the internal gravity seemed to be sufficient.

 

 _He was more than now he is._ The lion told him, barely seeming to need the focus it was spending on conversing with him.

 

_What happened to him?_

 

The same grief, twisting and pained, mingled with sympathy and something near to understanding hit him. He squeezed his eyes shut, tightening his grip on the chair.

 

_My brother will tell you. Ask of him what you wish to know._

The lion was silent after that.

 

*~*~*~~*~

 

By the time the Lion made it into the castle ship and they had managed to wormhole away, Keith was starting to look a bit worn.

 

He nearly fell walking down the ramp, and Lotor reached out to steady him, seeming on the verge of scooping him up.

 

If his nerves weren’t completely frazzled by all the near misses, he might have found it amusing, but as it was, Shiro was already coming up the ramp to help support Keith.

 

“No-no. Leave it on.” Keith protested, when Shiro reached for his helmet.

 

The confusion on Shiro’s face was adorable, in that sort of kicked puppy way that he hadn’t seen in months. Years, actually, like stealing the last breadstick out of the box without telling him.

 

“Keith?” Shiro’s voice was soft, concerned.

 

“Please. I’ll-I just…please.” Keith’s voice was soft, head tilting slightly to include Lotor.

 

“Whatever they did to you, Keith, we’re your friends.” A pale haired, dark skinned woman said, crowding in behind Shiro. “Please. Just allow us to take care of you.”

 

Acxa made a soft noise behind him, then shifted through the narrow gap, so that she filled the space completely with her frame. “Sir?”

 

“I think it will be fine.” Lotor answered, dismissive. “They mean no harm.”

 

The woman bristled slightly. “Who are you, exactly?”

 

“Friends.” Keith interjected, firm despite the tremors. “They’re friends. They saved me. Don’t…look, just…don’t.” His hands were fumbling for the clasps on his helmet, and Shiro reached forward quickly to assist him, colliding briefly with Lotor’s hands before they figured out how to work together.

 

The woman made a startled sound and took a single step back. “What-what….”

 

Shiro didn’t say anything, just looked at Lotor briefly. “You’re feverish. We need to get you in the pod before you cook yourself. Can you walk?”

 

“I will.” Keith said, eyes closing briefly.

 

“You do not need to walk.” Lotor said, sounding faintly exasperated. “Black Paladin, if you would step back for a moment.”

 

Shiro’s expression lingered somewhere between concerned and mischievous, but he stepped back.

 

Keith made a halfway offended sound as Lotor scooped him up, grumbling and flushing.

 

Shiro chuckled. “That’s one way around it. He’s stubborn.”

 

“So I have been told.” Lotor replied, voice holding a hint of amused fondness. “Where is the med center? I have only researched these castle ships in the abstract.”

 

“This way.” Shiro moved down the ramp glancing back at the rest of them curiously. “We can get the rest of you settled in quarters. Since you sacrificed your ship to rescue him, it’s the least we can do. You can call me Shiro.”

 

“I am Lotor.”

 

Shiro nodded, thoughtful, not looking at all judgmental. “Coran is handling unloading the prisoners from the shuttle. If any of them need medical treatment, they’ll meet us in the med bay. I’m sure you are concerned about your people.”

 

Lotor paused for a moment, but inclined his head. “I will be glad to know they are intact after the experience.”

 

“The castle is only partially active, so there are some areas it is better to stay out of. We’re working on bringing it all online again, but some of the issue is parts.” Shiro said, easy, casual.

 

Lotor perked up at that. “Well, you are in luck. The prisoners you just assisted in rescuing are all part of a program the empire uses for research and development. I am certain they will be overjoyed to assist with bringing this ship to the modern era.”

 

Shiro grinned. “Well, we don’t want to ask much more of you. You’ve already helped us out a lot.”

 

“I could not leave another half-galra in the hands of the witch, really.” Lotor admitted, looking down at Keith.

 

“Another?” Shiro asked, though it didn’t seem to be much of a question. “Then you’re all half-bloods?”

 

“Most of us.” Lotor gave him a look. “Some are merely resistant to the idea of being unmasked.”

 

Shiro gave him a curious look, but didn’t ask.

 

As much as he wanted to pull the helmet off and shout “surprise” he wanted to see Pidge first. It didn’t feel fair to do anything but. Plus, his hands were clammy and his heart still felt like it was skipping beats. It felt like if he did anything out of order he was going to lose everything when he was so close to getting it back.

 

Ezor bumped his shoulder with hers, snickering. “You’re so cute when you’re tongue tied.”

 

He sighed, rolling his eyes beneath the mask.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Keith looked almost peaceful in the healing pod, head tilted forward, eyes closed.

 

“Should be another quintent if you want to get some rest, Prince Lotor.”

 

He startled, turning in place to frown at the Altean. “wha-“

 

Coran smiled gently. “I have been reading though all of the information the castle has gathered over our ten thousand years of slumber.”

 

There was no judgment in the tone, no mockery, no revulsion. Just…knowledge. Coran knew who he was, but he did not seem to care.

 

“The Galra helped build the lions, you know? Before Daibazaal we walked hand in hand, our fates tied.” Coran’s voice was wistful. “I would like very much to see those days return.”

 

He glanced back at Keith. “I do not know that they can.”

 

“Well. You are here now. Looking at our Red Paladin with a familiar concern.” Coran smiled knowingly. “It is not always about where we came from, but what we do.”

 

“Alfor said that. King Alfor. I-I found one of his journals.” He admitted shyly.

 

“It was one of his favorite things to say. He was a good man, and a good friend to more than just myself.” Coran’s smile remained gentle. “I am glad you took his words to heart.”

 

He nodded stiffly, tucking his hands behind his back.

 

Coran stood with him for another few ticks, then stepped away, heading back out of the med center.

 

He watched him go, puzzled and not entirely sure how to take the encounter. Living Alteans were not something he was entirely prepared to grapple with, and at least Allura’s current distaste kept her far away from them.

 

Coran, though, seemed to hold none of her dislike for the concept of them.

 

*~*~*~*~*  
  
Pidge was talking loudly with their father, dragging him around the castle. He caught sight of them a few times, but he didn’t try to approach. Pidge just seemed to happy, and-ok yeah he was a coward and he didn’t know if this new sister would want anything to do with him anymore.

 

She wasn’t his little Pidgeon, she was a paladin of Voltron, fully capable of taking on bullies for herself.

 

She was amazing.

 

And he wasn’t sure how he fit.

 

Shiro paused next to him, tilting his head to the side.

 

He hadn’t revealed himself to anyone on the castle ship, knowing none of them would keep it a secret from Pidge (they shouldn’t, he was being foolish, and yet he was going to have to leave again and wouldn’t it be better to leave without making his sister cry?).

 

Shiro coughed. “If you leave without telling them, I’m calling your mother.”

 

He froze, turning his head slightly, pretending not to understand.

 

“You’re an idiot, and you’re letting your fear get the best of you. Sam would skin you.” Shiro said, still conversational. “But you’re still one of the smartest idiots I know, so, I bet you probably know that already.”

 

He made a strangled sound behind the mask. “How long?”

 

“Keith told me before we put him in the pod, he thought you might do something stupid.” Shiro shrugged.

 

“I have to go back to the rebels.” He admitted after a moment. “They need me.”

 

“Long distance calls aren’t really an issue in space, Matt. Allura’s already been talking about sending contact codes with you when you go back.” Shiro pointed out.

 

“Don’t use logic on me.” He grumbled.

 

“What, only you get to talk people off ledges? Come on, Matt. She misses you. She’s here for you.” Shiro elbowed him. “Whatever you think is going to happen? You’re wrong. She’s going to be the happiest person in the galaxy.”

 

“Which galaxy?” He grumbled sourly in response.

 

“Pick an inhabited one and she’ll beat anyone there. Trust me, Matt. Have I ever steered you wrong?”

 

“I can think of a few times. But most of them involved alcohol.” He admitted. “Plus, there was that thing during finals week.”

 

Shiro’s cheeks flushed. “Well, you still passed.”

 

“I had to telecom in to finish it, because we were in New Jersey.”

 

“Still, best lobster you’ve ever had and we made it to the concert.” Shiro retorted. “So. I say you should thank me for that one.”

 

He conceded the point with a grumble, crossing his arms. “How am I going to tell her?”

 

“I’d start by removing this.” Shiro knocked his knuckles against the side of his helmet. “And go from there.”

 

“Oh haha, thanks fearless leader.” But he reached up, slowly disabling the locks on the helmet and sliding it off before walking slowly to join his father and sister.

 

Pidge, predictably, saw him first and made a sound somewhere between a gasp and a sob before flinging herself at him, he caught her, swinging her in a tight circle and burrowing his face into her hair.

 

His dad joined them a moment later, and after that anything he might have said to explain himself seemed worthless.

 

*~*~*

 

He caught Keith gently as the pod released, lowering him to the floor and bundling him into the blanket Coran proffered.

 

Keith yawned, but didn’t object to being laid down on the floor, purple eyes gazing up at him.

 

“How do you feel?” He asked, voice quiet.

 

“Mmm. Sleepy? But better.” Keith nuzzled against his side, still peering up at him. His face relaxed abruptly into a smile.

 

“What?” He asked, amused.

 

“Just…you said it was probably the quintessence. Lowering my inhibitions.”

 

“It does. It makes those exposed to it more emotionally unstable.” He explained, fond.

 

“Mhm.” Keith agreed, and then sat up, pressing their lips together in a soft, searing kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> cagethestars: I really hope this is what you were looking for, I admit the plot bunny got a little away from me. Hope you enjoyed it! It's my first time trying to wrangle Lotor and Keith in a relationship.


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